


Sleeping Artist

by ilikecheesemaybe



Category: Benjaminutes - Fandom, The Riftdale Chronicles (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Sleep, Sleepy!Bart, paint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 11:51:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikecheesemaybe/pseuds/ilikecheesemaybe
Summary: Bart is asleep.Claire is awake.





	Sleeping Artist

Bart was asleep peacefully on the floor when Claire arrived. Christian must have been out, doing something that he would regret if he were sober, as he was not in the hotel room.

It took Claire weeks to track down the pair. Christian must have had them moving constantly. Poor Bart must be exhausted, probably fell asleep painting, if the paint all over the floor was any sign.

Claire stared down at his friendly grimly. Taking time to straighten out the artist’s hair and clothes, Bart hated looking unprofessional, said something about how it reminded him of darker days in his life. 

The poor dude must have been exhausted, especially judging by how messy he let himself look.

After he cleaned up the artist, he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and shook the artist softly, as not to hurt him.

“Wake up, Bart. The paint you spilled is going to alert everyone of your location, bud. Com‘on wake up, buddy.” When Bart failed to respond, Claire simple sighed, “Fine, I guess I’ll have to clean up the paint for you, silly artist.”

Claire stood and started to clean the paint away. God it was so messy. Bart used so much paint. He must have spent days on it.

Disposing of the dirty rags, Claire sat back next to Bart.

“Will you wake up now?” Claire looked at his friend with hopeful eyes and and said with an even more hopeful tone… yet he was left with no response from the tired artist.

“Com’on please, Bart?” The artist once again did not respond, too caught in his sleep to hear his dear tinfoil wearing friend.

Of course the hopeful conspiracist tried once more, “Bart, please wake up… do you need a big confession like in those shows you watch? I bet you do. You’re so dramatic you know that? I love you. Please don’t make me regret not telling you sooner.” 

But the artist’s heart had stopped beating long ago, his chest stopped rising as soon as the three bullets of Christian’s gun entered his head.

“Please respond.” But Bart could not. Even if he wanted to, he could never respond again. 

His friend, his kind artist, his sweet consultant, was dead, and there was nothing Claire could do to change it. There was nothing Claire could have done to prevent it.

His artist had become an angel, he would never be able to speak to him again, he would never be able to see his smile, his brilliance. He would never be able experience all that was Bart ever again.

Claire could only lament the loss of his dearest.

Bart was gone.

Claire would have to go on.

**Author's Note:**

> Wwwwwhat


End file.
